Page 42 of Hyperspeed
The egg-and-spoon race was only the start of the competition between Kai and me.
We watched the kids compete, playing the professional mentors. We hyped them up, offered our strategic advice, and celebrated no matter what. Because we had a talented team, we celebrated quite a lot.
But when the kids were done, it was the drivers’ turn, and Kai and I went head to head.
If someone asked me about the others’ performances, I wouldn’t know. My sole focus was Kai. No . . . my sole focus waswinning. Kai was just an obstacle I had to pass along the way.
With every event, the pair of us ignored the confused and amused looks we got from the adults. Jax asked what was going on, if everything was okay, but we waved him off with shoddy excuses, not caring whether he believed them.
Our only priority was proving which one of us was best.
The kids thought it was hilarious and had taken to making bets beforehand, using their snacks as payment. By lunchtime, Jeremy had two pockets stuffed with fruit bags and cookies, which he graciously shared with the team anyway.
On the plus side, Kai and I were raking in points for our team, and combined with top performances from the kids, we were dying to know the overall total—even if we’d be checking our individual scores with Elyn later.
Kai won several events, like the meteor dash, where we had to hop across an obstacle course in a metallic anti-gravity sack. I’d almost beaten him, but the sacks would randomly jolt, making it hard to balance, so Kai used one of my stumbles and a well-timed jolt of his own to overtake me and cross the line first.
I still had my fair share of wins, though. I’d crushed Kai in the laser ring toss, which involved throwing magnetic rings onto robotic targets that moved. It looked easy enough when the kids did it, but Elyn upped the speed for the adults, and we had our work cut out for us. It was thanks to extreme focus and pure luck that I hit all the targets—the only driver to do so.
Kai went at it with his usual cockiness, but a big head and a “championship attitude” doesn’t always bag the win.
He missed about ninety percent.
He seethed, embarrassed by his poor performance, even if he forced a smile for the kids’ sake. I’m sure he expected me to rub it in his face, but I stayed silent, smiling wide like the professional I was.
The rouge tint of his skin and the murderous glare were satisfying, though.
The last event was a three-legged race.
I had no idea what our team’s score was, but I was confident we’d done well. Turns out Jeremy, Lyla, Vaeri, and even Korvi were extremely competitive. They each stormed ahead whenever it was their turn, leaving their competitors in the dust with every first and second place finish.
So, yeah. I was confident. But we still had one more race before we’d find out.
Korvi and Lyla went first, finishing in second place behind two of Zylo’s kids. Then it was Vaeri and Jeremy, and because Vaeri had an extra limb, they had tokeep it curled up so things were fair. It meant their balance was a little off, which then affected Jeremy. They crossed the line a solid fourth, and our team didn’t waste a second making sure they knew just how well they’d done.
But then it was the adults’ turn, and Kai and I realised our competition was over. When we stood at the starting line, ankles tied together with a glittering yellow cord, it dawned on me.
It wasn’t a rivalry anymore. It was something worse.
We had to be a team.
“This is a terrible idea,” I muttered.
“I think you meanbrilliant.” Kai cracked his knuckles. “You’re lucky I’m on your team, rookie.”
“I’m two seconds away from gnawing through this rope and crawling to the finish line by myself.”
His breath brushed my ear as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I think I’d like to see you crawl.”
I elbowed him hard in the ribs. “One more word and I’m disqualifying us for violence.”
Elyn raised the air horn, and Kai readied himself to move. “Left leg first. You can tell your left from your right, can’t you, rookie?”
“Shut up.”
“On three.”
“Wait, are we goingonthree orafterthree?”
